


My Sweet Boy

by LadyCindy



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: But good to Morty, C137cest, Eventual Smut, Incest, Love, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rick Being an Asshole, Slow Burn, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCindy/pseuds/LadyCindy
Summary: This story both is and isn’t finished. It’s come to a satisfying conclusion but I do want to come and add more later, though I may just make another work in the series. I’m marking it as complete but I will continue it at a later date, either as new chapters or a sequel.Rick tries to keep Morty out of his head by nailing a barfly. It doesn’t go well and he ends up in Morty’s bed (innocently, for now.)





	1. Barfly

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publishing a fanfic so I’d love to know what you think. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> This is basically a preface chapter. They will get longer, I promise.
> 
> This chapter begins with Rick fucking a random person, but it’s not a relationship and it only matters to show his reactions to the tryst.
> 
> Rick’s thoughts are in italics.

“Wanna come home with me and play doctor?” purred the woman. (Candy?...or was it Cindy? Melissa, maybe?) It hardly mattered; she was willing and he really needed to get Morty off his mind. 

They sloppily kissed their way to her couch where he collapsed into the plush. She deftly unhooked his belt and undid his trousers, encouraging him to lift his ass so she could drop them to the floor. She was disappointed to find his ample dick completely soft. “Not aURPgain. Fuck,” tumbled out of his mouth as she tried to rectify the situation with hers. “Getting worse, Morty.” Luckily she missed his drunkenly slurred comment to himself as she was standing up and starting a striptease to entice him when he muttered it; as she did she gave him her sultriest smile and come-hither look. Rick came here to get Morty out of his head, who he was finding it ever more difficult to resist; for now he closed his eyes, picturing the boy’s slight frame, the curly brown hair with the single lock that always fell into his face, the open and trusting expression he wore regardless of what he experienced, and the innocent expression of love Rick had seen in his eyes more times than he had any right to be on the receiving end of from anyone, especially him. There was no way Morty knew what simply being in his proximity did to his grandfather. _What kind of sick piece of shit wants to fuck his own grandson? Would be so fixated on him that he could only get it up for the buxom redhead servicing him by thinking of the boy?_

The nameless woman (Mel? Missy? Jennifer?) climbed into his lap and quickly inserted him into herself, not seeming to care that he still had his eyes closed, obviously in another world with someone else. After she took her pleasure she slapped him as hard as she could, given her own state of drunkenness, tearing him away from the vision of his grandson sitting on his lap luxuriating in his cock. He knew he deserved to be slapped, and ever so much worse, but not for the reason she did it.

”Should I bother continuing? Are you going to participate?” She got her answer as he was obviously deflating now that he had been dragged out of his fantasy. “Get the fuck out of here, asshole.” He put himself back together without saying a word and had already grabbed the flask from the pocket of his lab coat and was taking a long drink as he called forth a portal and stepped back into his workshop.

He immediately dropped into his chair and grabbed the closest bottle of alcohol: almost pure ethanol bought off-world, just what he needed to forget about his obsession with his grandson for a while. “What a disa-disaster. I’m a sick basURPtard, Morty.” He sat drinking and quietly berating himself until he could barely stand or think. His intention was to drink until he blacked out on the floor of the garage but tonight he couldn’t stop himself from going to see the teenage boy that was both his blessing and his curse. He insisted to himself that he only wanted to check on Morty but he still took the precaution of not going up until he knew he was far too drunk to even be capable of getting an erection.

He stumbled through Morty’s door, closing the door behind him. He took a moment to watch his peacefully slumbering grandson in the moonlight before he staggered over and sat on the bed next to him. “Hey. Hey there Sweet Boy,” he said while rubbing Morty’s back, trailing his fingers up and down the boy’s spine, happy just to feel his smooth skin. Morty rolled over and graced him with an angelic sleepy smile. He couldn’t stop picturing the boy’s soft lips wrapped around his hard cock. “Move over kURPid, so your grandpa can lay down for a-for a minute.” The boy obliged with a look of what Rick could only interpret as trepidation: a faltering smile and his cheeks pinkening a few shades; the boy giving him a smile that, if anything, intensified his fantasies of ravaging him.

He stripped to his boxers and undershirt and lay down so they were face to face, never moving his eyes from his grandson. He gently moved the troublesome lock of brown hair off of the boy’s face. “L-Love you my Morty.” he managed to get out before passing out with his hand possessively draped over the smooth bare skin of the boy’s waist. 


	2. Little Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really a continuation of chapter 1.
> 
> Rick's thoughts are in italics.

Rick was awoken a few scant hours later from the sensation of water hitting his face. Morty was standing before him, one slim leg crossed over the other, so innocent and sweet with his hair mussed, eyes downcast, a small frown curling down his lips, shiny with a soft sheen of saliva, the bottom lip ever so slightly held between his teeth, hairless chest and abdomen, one hand behind his back, the other grasping a glass of water. "What the fuck are you doing you dumb little shit?"

"Aw geez, R-R-Rick. I tried to shake you aw-w-wake. It's morning; m-m-mom will be awake s-s-soon. She'll be m-m-mad if she catches us."

"Damn it kid, hand me my fucking flURPask." Sitting on the edge of his grandson's bed, eyeing the boy's barely covered body, nothing but a pair of basketball shorts between him and the damnation he yearned for, the only thing Rick's mind could process was the overwhelming craving to rip the shorts off the boy's body, **his** boy's body, and punish him for that little stunt: spanking that tight white ass until the boy cried out his name, not caring whether it was due to pain or pleasure, his rock hard cock pressed up into the boy's chest, the youthful body of his grandson rubbing it with each hard whack, turning that ass a shade of crimson that would guarantee the boy could think only of Rick every time he tried to sit for the next week.  _You fucking depraved old bastard. That's your goddamn grandson and all you can think about is burying your cock in his ass, using a child to fulfill your own corrupt desires._ Though uncommon it wasn't unheard of for a Rick to use his Morty sexually; Rick C137 understood that that is what they were doing: using them, like a tool, like a tissue: disposable and easily replaced when they were used up and destroyed. Rick didn't have many scruples but he did see his Morty as more than a piece of trash; he found his affection  _love_ for the boy quite inconvenient. It didn't matter how hard he fought the twisted feelings wrapped up in that affection, he couldn't banish them; only the alcohol allowed him the control to not ravage the boy and he knew its power was waning. "Come here you fucking idURPiot and help me to my room. And bring my shit." He could have stood by himself and he could have made it down the hallway alone but he was desperate to feel the boy's delicate body against his own.

Morty surprised his grandfather by not only following him into his room, but closing the door behind them. Rick's hope briefly flared that the boy had come in to fulfill all of his perverted fantasies, willing the youth to remove his shorts and beg his grandfather to fuck his tiny hole. The youth folded his grandfather's previously discarded clothes, leaving them on the man's chair before walking back to the door. "Fuck out of here, kid, let me sleep." was the only thanks the boy received.

"Umm, R-R-Rick is there anything you need?"  _Knees. Crawl over and put those soft, pink lips to some use. Bend over that chair so grandpa can utterly destroy your tight little ass. Damnit, Sanchez, you sick fucking deviant._ Rick realized the boy was standing with his hand on the doorknob, watching him, waiting for a response. He managed to whisper-yell "Get. Out. Now." before tipping his flask to his lips, draining the last of the liquid fire down his throat and throwing the flask across the room. The resulting crash made the boy jump and skitter from the room like a scared little rabbit driven from the safety of a hedge; Rick knew that his little rabbit would only be safe out of this room and away from him. He fell back on his bed, not bothering with the quilt, and slept, waking only when the house was quiet and he was blessedly/cursedly alone.


	3. Faking it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adventure gone wrong leaves Morty shaken. He depends on Rick for comfort. Rick's torment continues and he starts to come apart at the seams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's thoughts are in italics.

Morty was practically catatonic in the passenger seat. Rick had not been in control during the adventure.  _I could have lost Morty, could have fucking killed my boy then where would I be? Jesus, Sanchez._ There were infinite Mortys so Rick shouldn't have been so stressed at the thought of losing the boy, there was no logical reason for it, as there was no logical reason to work so hard at keeping his hands off the boy out of concern for harming him but he couldn't bring himself to even imagine just replacing his Morty. He stopped the ship in the middle of nowhere and ordered it to keep them safe while he helped his grandson move to the bed he had set up in the back years ago. He laid the boy down, ruffled his hair and was moving back towards his seat to guide them home when the youth's small hand grabbed his sleeve. "S-s-stay please" whimpered the boy, a look of quiet distress creating lines in his face that had no right to be there. At least he was talking again. With a sigh of irritation Rick sat on the edge of the bed furthest from his grandson; to his delight and dismay the boy immediately scooted over, laying his head high on his grandfather's thigh, his small arms wrapped about the same leg. Even with the teen traumatized, hell, especially with him traumatized Rick found it almost impossible to resist touching his trusty sidekick whose head now rested no more than a couple of inches from his quickly hardening dick.  


Rick spied a bottle of ice-blue alcohol he had picked up on a recent interstellar errand, a bottle that had gotten lost beneath his seat. He gratefully grabbed the bottle and poured several ounces down his throat. It wasn't fire so much as lava: dense and burning in a way that clung to every cell it touched. It seemed almost alive as it oozed down his throat. It was still courage in a bottle and helped him gain just enough control to not grab his grandson by the hair he was currently smoothing in order to force the boy's head down on his cock.  _Sick fucking degenerate. You almost kill him; that's still not enough to get you to stop imagining raping him. So beautiful and so breakable._ Rick flooded his throat with a quarter of the bottle of blue lava. He couldn't take his eyes, or his mind, off of his beautiful boy: the thick, curly hair stuck to his head with the sheen of sweat from running from the Katayan guards; the goosebumps still peppering the boy's otherwise unblemished skin; the downiness his body hair hadn't yet lost to full-on puberty; the slimness of every part of his body, inherited directly from himself (Rick's cock twitching at yet another reminder that this was, in fact, his very own grandson); the way his body was almost imperceptibly trembling, the last of the adrenaline only now draining out of his delicate body. Rick attempted to distract himself by closing his eyes, leaning back, and letting his body relax but this only enhanced his other senses: he could hear the shuddering breaths the boy was taking, feel the exact lightly course texture of the hair his fingers were currently wrapped up in, and became almost overwhelmingly aware of the scent. Damn that scent, Rick was now so aware of it he could taste the sweetness of the natural scent that belonged to his grandson alone, with just an edge of musk, the acidic tang of his adrenaline-laced sweat and the soft citrus of his soap. 

Rick dug the fingernails of the hand not wrapped up in the boy's hair into the flesh of his palm, grounding himself in the pain in his resolve to not pillage the body of the nubile youth with his head currently resting mere inches from Rick's now dripping dick.  _Damnit my boy you don't know what you do to me, how completely irresistible you are to this depraved old man. Jesus, Sanchez, you're fucking sick. You fucking traumatized him and still all you can seem to think about is shoving your dick past those creamy, pliable lips and down into his throat. Mother-fucker._ Rick unconsciously tightened his grip on his grandson's hair while simultaneously fantasizing about railing the boy and railing at himself for those fantasies. He was able, barely, to let go of Morty before he could find himself acting on his fantasies of forcing open those perfectly soft, pink lips and thrusting himself down the boy's slender throat.

He flooded his own throat with another quarter of the bottle of blue lava and found the strength to move his grandson's head off his lap, moving back up to his seat setting a course towards home. Morty whimpered at the older man's sudden departure. That one small noise pulled at Rick's heart, and to be honest, at his dick as well. "It's - it's okay bURPuddy. Gr-grandpa's here"

Rick had to encourage the boy out of the ship when they got home. He saw Morty following in his own example, though strangely in a behavior he didn't think the boy had ever actually witnessed: standing at the threshold of the door to the house schooling his expression until it looked completely natural. He could see how the smile didn't quite touch the boy's eyes, though doubted that anyone in that house would pay close enough attention to be able to tell.  _Fucking hell. How long has he been faking his emotions? What else have I done to my beautiful boy? Have I already fucking destroyed him?_ Even with his mind focused on the boy's well-being his eyes lingered on the sight of the tender ass he was barely keeping himself from destroying. "C-c-come in, too. P-p-please Granddaddy." the object of his desire whimpered.  _Granddaddy? When the hell did that start? And why the hell does he have to make this so much more difficult by using that word?_ Rick's cock responded to it by once again oozing precum. He buttoned his lab coat over himself to hide his painfully straining, dripping dick."Sure - sure thURPing buddy." The boy turned, likely making sure Rick was actually coming to the door. He needed his grandson to go inside so he could have a minute to settle his goddamn body and change out of his now precum-stained slacks. The teen seemed to have other ideas and he couldn't bring himself to snap at the boy like he normally would when he was so obviously traumatized by an experience that Rick couldn't deny was his fault.

Morty was able to greet the rest of the family like everything was normal and, just as Rick had predicted, none of them noticed that he was faking it. He settled the youth on the couch, finding 2 Brothers 2 on interdimensional cable, the film apparently having gone straight to tv, while Rick took a quick trip to his room, stripping out of his slacks and boxers almost before getting the door closed behind him. He quickly locked himself in and spit in his hand, immediately adopting a pace between the stroking of his fist and the thrusting of his hips meant only to end his torment without trying to luxuriate in the moments he'd spent lusting after his grandson during the trip that day. Closing his eyes he pictured the events of the day taking a slightly different turn: _he lie down facing his grandson in the back of his ship, holding the boy's small body against his own, heedless of the boy feeling his grandfather's granite cock digging into his leg. One of his hands wrapped tightly into the boy's hair, staring into his eyes as he roughly brought their mouths together, devouring the teen's lips and tongue in a none too gentle dance.  He could feel his grandson's smaller erection pressing into his own stomach._ As turned on as he was the image of Morty getting hard for him was enough to send Rick into oblivion and he shot several ropy bursts of semen across the floor. He wiped himself off and did a cursory clean-up of the semen he'd shot into the carpet with one of his undershirts throwing it in the corner with the rest of his hastily discarded garments, knowing he could easily clean up any leftover protein stains later with a simple chemical solution.  Rick dressed in clean clothes and went to check on his boy.


	4. Dick measuring contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerry tries to face off against Rick, him being the man of the house, after all. Rick's control is slipping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's thoughts are in italics.

Rick found Morty curled up in a ball in his seat on the couch, rather than the center spot the boy would normally take, worrying his thumbnail between his teeth and somehow managing an expression that seemed to reference both innocence and innocence lost. Rick was just enjoying watching his boy for a moment when his idiot father walked in "Are you sucking your thumb?"

Rick shot the idiot a look of pure venom, "The fuck is wrURPong with you dipshit? Wonderful goddamn parenting there and so observant, too. Maybe you could get the kid a nail file so he doURPesn't leave chewed up fingernails all over the couch." Rick smirked as Jerry went to do exactly as Rick had suggested, muttering to himself about what an asshole Rick is and how nobody loved or respected him. Jerry returned, handed his son the nail file, spinning on his heel to face off against Rick, trying to get into his face, going off about being "the man of the house" while his voice slowly rose in pitch.  _Don't kill him, he's Beth's idiot. At least not right here right now._ Rick was still standing watching his boy, even seeing the ghost of a real smile on his face at hearing Rick order Jerry around.  _Thank fuck, he'll be okay_ Beth started yelling at Jerry to stop trying to measure dicks with Rick. Only then did Rick turn and look at the other man, smirking at the dejected look the supposed man of the house was now wearing.

With a barely perceptible nod Rick got his grandson to scoot over enough for him, speaking in a language only the two of them knew, to claim his space. The boy immediately curled up against him as soon as he was settled. The idiot looked like he wanted to say something about this new seating arrangement but one icy look was enough to get him to sit quietly. Rick obviously, if quietly was openly laughing at Jerry at this point; he had once again shown who was the superior male specimen and true man of the house, not that there had ever been any doubt.

The rest of the evening passed in stony silence: Beth too angry with her idiot to talk, Summer busy with her phone as usual, Jerry was pouting and Rick gave him a look so full of poison anytime he opened his mouth that he stayed quiet and morosely played some moronic matching game on his tablet; nobody noticed Morty's silence which was exactly what Rick had intended.

Morty went to bed with a single word to the family "T-t-tired" just an hour after dinner was finished. Rick retrieved the bottle of almost gelatinous blue alcohol and filled his flask with whiskey for good measure, taking both with him to his own room, intending to make an early night of it as well. He saw Beth and the idiot still arguing on his way through, the idiot practically sniveling; Rick smirked at him one last time for good measure before retreating to his bedroom. A day of death-defiance, an explosive orgasm, and dominating his daughter's idiot really had worn him out.  He stripped to his boxers and undershirt and climbed into his bed, making sure his alcohol was still within reach.

Rick dipped in and out of sleep for the next few hours. He was lying awake with his mind drifting onto the only subject that truly baffled the super-genius: his beautiful boy.  It didn't take much for him to picture every curve of the boy's body, every hair on his head.  He could almost smell his grandson's sweet scent that was only in recent months developing a hint of musk. He had just snaked his hand under his boxers, intent on luxuriating in the vision of the youth, no matter how sick those thoughts were, when his door slowly opened.  _Shit._ He had obviously forgotten to lock his door. He was ready to bite the head off of whoever had disturbed his sanctuary when he saw the vision of innocent perfection that had admitted himself without so much as knocking. He also saw the tears quietly slipping down the boy's face. Rick jumped from his bed and half-carried his tormented, tormenting angel to his bed, pausing only to lock the door behind them.

Morty lay down and immediately moved over enough to make room for his grandfather, only enough to give Rick no option but to lie pressed up against him. The boy was trying to say something but, through the snot and tears, Rick couldn't guess what it was. "It's - it's okay, grandpa's here for you bab-buddy. You're safe. GrandURPpa won't let - won't let anything happen to you. Shh, shh, shh, it's okay my swee...it's okay. Come - come here, let grandpa hold and protect - he'll protect you. Shh, shh, shh." he soothed Morty while shifting position to lie on his back, draping his grandson's slim chest over his own so he could run his fingers up and down the boy's smooth skin to comfort him.  _Comfort him, you sick old fuck. He's crying, he's scared because of you, he's traumatized because of you and he still loves you, trusts you, comes to you for comfort. And all you can do is wish he would straddle you and_  Morty suddenly straddled his grandfather's waist, lying down on his chest, his head immediately buried against Rick's shoulder. "Morty, what the - what the fuck?" he snapped.

"I-i-it wasn't comfortable." mewled the boy "Is i-i-it okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's okay my sweet boy," Rick's pet name for the boy slipping from his lips without his permission. "Just go - just go to sleep now. Grandpa's here." His voice came out as a growl it was so husky with his need for the delicate creature lying innocently and so provocatively above him, his knees pressed up up tightly against the sides of Rick's chest with his ass cheeks a mere couple of inches too far up Rick's body for him to slide his cock between them. The boy lifted his face up, giving him a smile completely full of love and trust. Rick knew he had no right to receive a look like that, a look as close to the divine as could possibly exist in any universe.

Morty quickly fell silent and limp as he seemed to have finally cried himself out and calmed. The boy's body slipped further down Rick's body as he went slack. Rick's dick, now seemingly carved out of granite, was suddenly very firmly pressed against the underside of the boy's scrotum and ass crack, almost precisely where Rick had been dreaming of moments before. Rick groaned throatily, "Oooooooh Morty," tumbled out of his mouth in a moan but the boy stayed bonelessly sleeping on him, apparently still completely oblivious to the noises he was making and to the rock-hard cock pressed up against his own groin. Rick buried his face into the boy's curly brown mop and allowed his fingers to gently wander the back of his very own harbinger of doom/cherub.  _Fuck, fuck, fuck, Morty. I have never needed anything like I need you. I can't stop here, baby boy. You don't know what you do to me. I love you, I love you my sweet boy. You're mine, my own sweet baby now and Daddy needs you._

Rick slowly moved his hips, thrusting up against the boy's young ass. He carefully reached behind the boy to release his hard-on to thrust against his grandson's hardness and tender ass.  _Hard? Morty is hard? It must be from the friction, that has to be all it is. Fucking hell I need you my boy_. Rick waited to ensure his grandson was still asleep before using his hand to make a tunnel against his boy that he could fuck into. He retained just enough control of himself to keep from ripping the kid's only piece of clothing, his thin basketball shorts, off of his body. He slowly fucked up into the tunnel he had created against Morty's body. It didn't take long, even with the languid pace he was setting, knowing he was touching the boy he loved, for the earth to shatter below him, threatening to suck him down into its molten core, which couldn't be any hotter than the cherub sleeping on his chest. He had the presence of mind to pull his pulsating cock away from the boy's body when he exploded, creating a sticky mess on himself and his sheets, but hopefully sparing the boy's skin and clothes. Rick wiped his hands on his sheet and encircled the boy in his arms. He finally fell asleep, sated, with his grandson still on top of him.

Rick was only able to steal a couple of hours sleep before the weight of the boy pushing down on him, slight though he was, became too much for Rick. He was about to wake the boy when he became aware of more than his grandson's weight: night wood; the boy's erection was pushing down into his grandfather's naval. Perhaps he didn't need to move the boy immediately.  _I'll have him move when his hot little cock goes down. He'd be embarrassed to know that he was grinding into my stomach. Grinding? Is he rutting against me?_ The boy's movements were really too small and erratic to be considered anything more than spasms. "Hey. hey Buddy. Y-you awake? Morty? Baby?"  _He has to be asleep. My sweet, innocent boy would never want his fucked up, dried up old grandfather._ Finally confident that Morty was asleep he slid his hands down to his grandson's hips, pressing the boy as deeply into himself as possible. He moved the boy above him painfully slowly, needing to feel his pubescent dick sliding against him. Another deep moan escaped Rick's lips.

He recorded every sensation in his mind, torturing himself with the knowledge that he'd never get closer than this to fulfilling his depraved fantasies of consuming his grandson in the heat of his passion and also knowing that he would remember this moment for the rest of his life, whether he wanted to or not. Rick had to taste his grandson, to know if he tasted as sweet as he smelled. The youth's shoulder was directly in front of his grandfather's mouth; Rick leaned up enough to lick and suck the supple skin. The teen was ice cream on the beach: sweet, smooth, creamy, and just slightly salty; he was an amalgam of every untainted experience Rick had ever had. After a moment/eternity of this new paradise/perdition the boy whimpered once and climaxed, a small pool of warmth spreading between them, soaking all the way down to Rick's skin.

Rick spent minutes, or maybe centuries, lying beneath this enigma of a boy with Morty's slowly drying cum bonding them together. He woke his grandson just enough to get the boy off his chest, basking in the afterglow of his clandestine activities. They both fell asleep with the teen's delicate body wrapped in his grandfather's warm embrace.


	5. Kiss and make up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick can't handle his loss of control so he reverts to being an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's thoughts are in italics.
> 
> They'll lose their minds soon, promise.

They awoke to the smell of pancakes and the sounds of domestic decidedly non-bliss: Beth and Jerry arguing again in the kitchen, probably about Rick. After disentangling himself from his grandson Rick got an old Flesh Curtains t-shirt from his dresser and slipped it over his grandson's head when the boy stood up. He suggested his grandson go straight to his room to change clothes before heading to breakfast. When pressed for a reason he pointed out the semen stain on the front of the boy's shorts, ignoring the small streak left on the back of them. Morty's look of embarrassment turned to abject horror when he saw a matching stain on his grandfather's undershirt. The teen looked about to cry; Rick just smiled at him "Hey bu-buddy. You're in pURPuberty, it happens. Nobody else is going to - going to know."  The boy began to calm and even managed a small smile before sneaking out of Rick's room.

When he was alone again Rick sunk back into his mattress, sitting on the edge of it with his head in his hands.  He didn't move from this position until long after the family had finished their breakfasts. He split his time between heaping abuse upon himself and trying to find a way out of the purgatory he was busy creating for himself by staying around the boy  _There's only one choice, Sanchez, and you fucking know it. You have to leave, for good. If you leave it will destroy him, just like it destroyed Beth._ He felt only the barest twinge of regret for having abandoned his daughter but the thought of doing the same to his sweet, sweet boy was soul-crushing.  _If you stay you will destroy him._ Rick was not accustomed to having problems he couldn't invent a solution for.

Rick even considered modifying the memories of his daughter and grandkids - completely removing himself from their lives. He smiled maliciously at the thought of leaving his daughter's idiot's memories intact; let everyone think he's crazy. He knew he couldn't bear to let Morty forget him; he also knew he was too selfish to leave for good.

Rick spent days ignoring Morty, too ashamed of his molestation of the boy and his urge to do that, and so much more, to him again that he couldn't stand being in his presence. However unfairly, he was also angry with the youth for making him want him so badly. Shame was not something Rick was accustomed to, he had decided it was just another useless emotion decades before and, as such, had shed it like a too-small snake skin. He was now flooded with shame since his almost-rape of the sleeping child.

He let the boy go to school every day for an entire week, a record since he had adopted the boy as his partner in crime and didn't let Morty help with his work. Rick ensured his bedroom door was locked each night and was twice awoken to someone attempting to open it. They didn't watch interdimensional cable together; Rick even took to eating in his workshop. He made a conscious effort to ignore the effect his avoidance was having on his grandson: the dark circles under his eyes due to lack of sleep, the frequent burst blood vessels in his eyes from crying, the dark mood he fell into more and more, the petty arguments he started with everyone in the family, and his increasing isolation. Rick tried to ignore all of this, but didn't do a very good job of it.

The following Saturday, the first in over a year he didn't take the boy on an adventure, was filled with Beth, Summer, and even Jerry, confronting him trying to wheedle out of him what was going on between the two of them. His granddaughter proved herself far more astute that he ever would have guessed and more protective of her little brother than Rick could had imagined. "Grandpa Rick, why are you being such a prick to Morty?" her anger obviously flaring in her expression, "Was he not a good boy for you?" she asked, waiting expectantly, an all-too familiar smirk on her face.  _Holy fucking shit she can't be asking what she's asking. No, no, no, no, no, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ "You use him...to help on your stupid adventures, as an emotional dumping ground, to cover your damn brainwaves, and who the hell knows what else. If you keep hurting him I will find a way to destroy you." The girl said without a hint of irony.

Rick laughed in her face, his own anger obvious in his expression. "Bitch, you don't have the power to hurt me."

"Yeah, because you only love Morty." It was a statement, not a question.

"Love is an unnecessary emotion."  _And you fucking know she's right. You do love him._  "Get out of my damn garage, take your little girl opinions with you and go fuck yourself with them." Their expressions mirrored each other, twin storms of anger on their faces.

"Unless you want to end up completely alone I suggest you KISS. and make up." Rick's mouth dropped open at these words, all the venom draining out of him. He even felt a slight blush flush his cheeks.  _She knows. She fucking knows. Is she actually telling me to fuck her barely teen brother? How fucking sick is that. Oh fuck, Morty, what a fucking disaster._ Her words sent his mind reeling, right to what he was working so hard to avoid, images of ravaging the boy, starting with those soft, full, lips. "If you don't start treating him like he deserves you will pay for it." she added with a syrupy sweet smile, turning on her heel and heading back into the house.

Rick collapsed to the floor, his back against his workbench, with his face once again buried in his hands. He grabbed a bottle of 192 proof vodka he had stashed under the bench, not able to deal with his own racing thoughts or the straining hard-on he had any more.  _Jesus, Sanchez. You're a completely fucking depraved piece of shit. First you can't stop picturing fucking your own grandson's mouth and annihilating his virginal asshole and, now, the thought of your granddaughter encouraging it has you cock cast in steel. You fucking sick fuck._

Rick needed time and space to think and biting the idiot's head off when he came out to discuss Morty only took the edge off his emotions. He got in his ship and was quickly setting down on the moon; he occasionally made this trip when he needed seclusion. Rick spent hours just thinking, sitting in his ship stock still until long after dark before deciding he would just have to man up and go home to have a talk with the boy.

He found Morty, as well as his daughter and her idiot, in front of the tv. It being Saturday night his granddaughter was almost certainly off getting high and shagging someone. She had always been much more like Rick than his boy ever had. He stood in front of the teen who just stared straight through him like he wasn't even there. "Morty. Morty. Morty. C-come on bURPuddy, I need another pair of hands to help - to help with my new project. Come with - come with me."

"No." was all the boy said, not even bothering to look up into his grandfather's eyes.

"Goddamnit, Morty. What? Am I supposed to get your dad to help?" The hopeful look on Jerry's face was so goddamn pathetic it just infuriated Rick. "Fuck off, Jerry, nobody wants you." The boy announced that he was going to bed. Rick went back to his workshop to drink and get lost in his work. He had to deny the urge to break something because he would have broken everything in his shop at that point.

Rick did finally calm and was able to distract himself with his work.


	6. A little electrical work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Morty discuss both of their recent behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's thoughts are in italics.

In the wee hours of the morning Rick realized he hadn't actually eaten anything all day so he went into the house to rectify the situation. The television was on; what Rick found when he went to investigate horrified him: his own sweet boy holding a bottle of alcohol that could have only come from Rick's supply: a purely clear liquor with pink bubbles and a pink glow coming off of it. The boy was already obviously sauced. He didn't ignore Rick this time; he threw his arms around his grandfather when Rick leaned down to check on him, burying his face in his grandfather's neck. "C-c-come on Morty, we have to ta - have to talk." He practically dragged the boy out to his workshop which had both soundproofing and a lock on the door.

Rick tore the bottle out of the teen's hand once the door was shut and shattered it on the backside of the door. "Goddamnit Morty. Wh-wha-what are you thinking? You want to be like me?"  _I've destroyed him. I've fucking destroyed him. Jesus, Sanchez._ "Is that rURPeally what you fucking want?" I know you're dumb but I didn't think - I didn't think you were that fucking stupid."

"Yes, okay. Y-y-yes that's what I w-w-want. You're m-m-my hero and I love you! Fuck!" with that admission the boy broke down sobbing. "Fuck you Rick! You l-l-left me. You - you wouldn't even t-t-talk to me. I hate you! You d-d-don't even care about m-m-me. You don't c-c-care about - about anyone. Why bother s-s-saving me if you hate me so much? Why? W-w-why goddamnit? You wouldn't even care if I d-d-died! N-n-nobody matters to you."

"Morty, baby." Rick could say it once, he could say it once sober(ish). "I love you, you little - you little shit. Look at me. Look at me for fuck's sake." Rick grabbed Morty, putting one hand on either side of the boy's head, bringing his face up so they were looking one another in the eye, their faces just inches apart, "I. Love. You." Morty leaned forward, smashing his lips against his grandfather's; Rick stepped between the boy's legs, leaving no space between them. He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into Morty's young mouth, drawing the boy's tongue into his. Both were moaning and grinding their hard dicks against one another through their clothes. Morty locked his legs together around the older man's hips, his arms pulling Rick into a deeper embrace.  Suddenly the youth pushed his grandfather away bodily, vomiting the alcohol he'd consumed onto the floor.

This gave Rick a moment's clarity. "We can't baby. We can't. I'm your grandURPfather. And you're a - you're a fucking kid. And you're drunk. This is wrong, Morty. Don't you - don't you see that? It's wrong, we have to - we have to stop." Rick couldn't believe he was stopping this - an open invitation to fulfill his most perverted fantasies and he was saying no; he never thought he could have the strength to say no to his boy.

"I-I-I was your g-g-grandson last weekend too." Morty said softly, "You didn't seem to m-m-mind when you were masturbating against m-m-my ass. I was awake the wh-wh-whole time. Th-th-then you abandoned me like I'm nothing. No, even worse, you a-a-abandoned me like a - like a - like a fucking Morty, completely fucking replaceable." he screamed at his grandfather.

"I was - I was trying to take care of you." Rick said with his head hung in shame, "I destroy everything I care about. I destroyed my dURPaughter, my wife. I destroy every - everything I touch - everything I love. The way I - the way I love is bad, Morty. I am no fucking hero." Rick snapped, red in the face from shame, anger, and an overwhelming need to show the boy exactly why he was not a hero. "I'm no hero, Morty. And this - doing this isn't something you cURPan come back from." he continued sadly. He still hadn't stopped dry-humping his grandson, though. "It's so wrong my love." Rick ran a thumb down either side of the boy's face, drinking in his beauty, his innocence, and his strength. He caressed the youth's lips with his fingers. "You haven't even gotten through - gotten through puberty yet, I'm your grandURPfather, and you're drunk. You deserve better, better than this, better than me."

"No," Morty said with more authority and self-assurance than Rick knew he possessed. "S-s-stopping this won't change anything, Rick. I w-w-want you. I've w-w-wanted you and just you for over a year. I l-l-love you and I'm not going to stop. YOU are not something I can c-c-come back from, even if you b-b-break my heart. It's too fucking late to say n-n-no. It's t-t-too late to save me from you. I belong with you. I b-b-belong to you. Remember, Rick and Morty for..."

"...a hundred years." Rick finished, smiling ruefully as he captured the boy's mouth in his own. He could taste the sourness of the boy's vomit. Rick grabbed the bottle of vodka he had previously abandoned, swirled some in his mouth and spat it on the floor. Tipping the bottle to the boy's lips he encouraged the teen to do the same. Hearing Morty say that they belonged together and that Morty belonged to him finally broke Rick's resolve. If Morty wanted to be like him or with him then he wouldn't hold back any longer. If the teen were resigned to the damnation of Rick then Rick would enjoy the road to hell right beside him. "I have to give you one last - one last chance to back out, Morty. We can forget all of this, go back to our classic - our clasURPsic adventures and never talk about tonight again."

"No. It's t-t-too late for that, Rick. S-s-stop stalling granddaddy. I need you."

"And you want me here? Sitting on my - on my workbench? I could take you somewhere tomorrow. I could take you on a real date." he offered while licking and nipping the boy's neck and chest, leaving one hickey after another just below where the neckline of his shirt would fall. "But if we start I'm not going to be able to - able to stop. You want me? You'll get all of me and you won't be pussing out once we start. I promise I'll make it good for you, no matter when you're ready." Morty laughed at this. Seeing his boy happy again finally pushed Rick past logic, reason, and the point of no return.

They both wore looks of greedy need as Rick grabbed the boy's hips, desperately hammering their cloth-covered cocks together, simultaneously slamming their mouths together, delving immediately into a deep kiss, his tongue probing the boy's mouth. Morty's tongue quickly met his, entwining in a violently energetic dance. Morty wrapped his legs once more around Rick's hips, his arms around his grandfather's neck. "Fuck, my boy. I need you." Rick stepped back for a moment, earning him a moan of loss from the youth's throat. He had Morty lift his hips to remove the boy's sleep short. "You're such a good boy for your grandpa, aren't you baby? So excitable." Morty could only respond with a whimper and nod, already lost in passion for his grandfather. Rick jerked the shorts off the boy's slim hips, the waistband momentarily catching on his very hard prick, sending it bouncing against his stomach. The boy immediately attempted to wind himself back around Rick's body but Rick stopped him, needing a moment to appreciate the beauty of his boy aroused and waiting for him alone: the curly brown hair, stuck up at all angles, refusing to be tamed; the way he was blushing in various shades of red; his entrancing eyes, still puffy from his recent lack of sleep, now overflowing with his inner fire of desire; the goosebumps lifting his still downy hairs; his long, slender limbs, so like Rick's own; and the sweet, wet cock pressed up against the boy's belly.

"G-g-grandaddy? C-c-can I help you undress?" Morty said with a shy smile. Rick stepped forward to allow the boy to help him undress, his lab coat quickly falling to the floor. The boy's reactions were dampened both by the alcohol and the hormones coursing through his body. He was too anxious to get Rick's shirt off of him to do so properly and wound up ripping the bottom few buttons apart in his fervor to reach his grandfather's skin. 

"You're going to have to fix that you wanton little slut." Rick said with a surprised, indulgent smile while smacking the boy's hip, as it was currently more accessible than his ass. The teen's cock twitched hearing his grandfather's dirty term for him. "You really can't wait to get your granddaddy's cock buried deep in that tight little ass, can you boy?" Rick was oozing precum but was going to make the boy's first time more memorable that just a quick fuck no matter how crazy he drove himself in the process. His grandson was clawing his back in an attempt at force him to just fuck him already. "Boy, if you don't stop scratching I'll end up going in you dry and you aren't ready for that. Ease off the nails." Rick chuckled warmly at this grandson's enthusiasm.

He dragged Morty to the very edge of his workbench and slowly knelt down between the boy's legs, his eyes never leaving his grandson's. He had the youth hold onto his shoulders while he spread the boy's legs and began licking him from his puckered hole, across his already tight testicles, and up and around his cock, circling the head. He did this slowly and methodically, torturing the boy by giving enough sensation to drive him to the edge of orgasm but not quite enough to allow him to fall over that edge. Without warning he sucked the boy's length into his mouth, extending his tongue to continue stimulating his testicles. Rick had the finger and thumb of one hand locked together at the base of Morty's shaft, behind his balls, creating a cock ring with his fingers and preventing the boy from popping before Rick was ready.

He grabbed a tube of silicone grease used for lubricating electrical components and covered the fingers of his other hand with it, sticking the tip of the tube into his grandson's arse, squirting plenty of the lubricant into the boy's hot channel. He began working a finger into him, kissing him passionately while beginning to stretch the boy to accommodate him. When his grandson stopped whimpering and started moaning he added a second finger, slowly fucking them in and out of the boy's tight passage. He scissored his fingers in and out of the tight teen, ensuring his grandson's first time was more pleasure than pain. When he had three fingers moving in and out of the youth, still holding back the boy's orgasm with one hand, he slipped his fingers out, finally lubing up his dripping purple-red beast of a hard on and burying himself to the hilt in a single stroke.

Morty immediately whined into his grandfather's mouth, attempting to wiggle away from the intrusion. "Shh, shh, shh, my sweet, sweet boy. Just relax, trust grandpa." The fingers Rick had been using to stretch the boy to accommodate him were now digging into the flesh of his palm; he needed the pain to ground himself in the necessity of allowing the youth's body time to adjust to his length and girth, both of which were substantial. He had been with grown women that hadn't been able to take him completely and he was now 100 percent buried in this young virgin. "Such a good boy, my brave boy. You feel so good - so fucking good my love."

When his grandson's body had settled onto him Rick began to slowly and gently fuck the boy, angling to hit his prostate on every stroke. Morty seemed to come undone with this new sensation, begging Rick to let him finish. "P-p-please, ooooooh god, R-R-Rick. Fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck, pleeeeeease." There were tears leaking from his boy's eyes from the endless build-up without any release. Watching, hearing, and feeling his Morty come apart at the seams was quickly bringing Rick to his own climax. He lost his rhythm, fucking the boy with wild abandon, letting go of his grandson’s dick, finally allowing him to cum. The combination of the boy's spasming channel, hearing his own name in the orgasmic groan Morty let out, and the sight/smell/feel of the boy jettisoning cum over both of their stomachs was enough to make Rick flood the boy with his orgasm, Morty's name released from his lips in a gutteral growl.

The intensity of their orgasms had them hanging onto one another for dear life, leaving both of them with scratches on their skin from the passion of the other. Rick picked the boy up, his softening cock popping from the boy's ass and a waterfall of fluid following, and carried him to his ship where they could lie together in post-coital bliss. They quickly fell asleep together. 


End file.
